


You Make the Winter Feel Warmer

by PinkGerberDaisies



Series: Home Sweet Home [4]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Home Sweet Home AU, Just a sweet little oneshot, Love, VirtueMoir family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:15:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21914038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkGerberDaisies/pseuds/PinkGerberDaisies
Summary: Merry Christmas from Scott, Tessa, Alisa, Christopher, and Jodie Moir.Or, a fluffy Christmas glimpse into the lives of my Home Sweet Home AU family.
Relationships: Scott Moir/Tessa Virtue
Series: Home Sweet Home [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1128131
Comments: 40
Kudos: 120





	You Make the Winter Feel Warmer

**Author's Note:**

> December 2035. 
> 
> (Toph rhymes with Loaf)

** you make the winter feel warmer **

_The air is cold and the silence pervasive as they stare at each other, and Tessa – for all her inexperience – feels like this moment weighs heavier than any others in her single decade of life. “Why would you want to marry me anyway?” She asks, quiet and breathless, and Scott smiles._

_He leans in slowly, and Tessa has no idea what he’s doing but she doesn’t move away. Doesn’t move when his mouth gets close to hers. Doesn’t move when his eyelids drop. And doesn’t move when he presses his lips to her own so, so softly._

_She lets her own eyes shut as well, basking in the strange and kind of wonderful sensation of being kissed for the first time._

_When Scott pulls away he smiles at her again and whispers, “So I can kiss you anytime I want.”_

The harsh ringing of the buzzer signaling the end of the second period jerks Tessa out of her memories, forcing her to shake away images of a dark, empty arena and the boy who’d taken her there in favor of focusing on the much more pressing situation at hand - watching her son listen seriously to the instructions from his hockey coach before the last third of the game begins. A game that, so far, has been nail-bitingly intense.

Not that she’s really noticed. It’s inconvenient, sitting in the stands of another arena that also feels like a second home thirty-six years later, unable to concentrate and being bombarded by memories of the first time her husband proposed when she should be giving one hundred percent of her attention to Toph and the rivalry game that’s sure to determine his mood for the next few days, but she can’t help it. Nostalgia has been hitting her hard lately, a fact she blames solely on the fact that it’s Christmastime and this is their first full season in the new Ilderton Arena, and not on the fact that Scott isn’t here with her.

Objectively, Tessa knows the old arena was aging poorly and that tearing it down was the right choice for the Moirs to make - this new facility is bursting to the brim with all the latest technology and modern amenities and it’s bringing in a lot of new business for the family, both as coaches and at the skate shop, and the drastically improved quality of the hot chocolate doesn’t hurt either - but she can’t help but feel a little melancholy that the building that held so many of her best memories now exists only in the past with them.

_“You’re the first boy I ever kissed, Scott. I want you to be the last.”_

“Mom,” A soft voice from the child tucked in close to her side draws Tessa’s attention, and she firmly shoves her memories back in the box where they belong and slams the lid shut. Now is not the time for being distracted or feeling sad. “Do you think Toph will mind if I give this one purple hair?” Jodie holds her notebook up in front of Tessa’s face and points at one of the pretty girls, tapping the page anxiously as she gazes up at her mother with wide green eyes that mirror her own – waiting for approval.

“I think Toph will be happy with however you decide to color them, honey,” Tessa replies, planting a kiss on top of her youngest’s head and smiling, “He drew them for you to color however you want – purple hair and all. You can even add wings or a mermaid tail, he won’t mind.”

Jodie looks back at the drawing on her lap, biting her bottom lip as she ponders her next words. “I don’t want him to be sad if he doesn’t like it. He spent so much time drawing all the different people for me.”

It’s wonderful and sweet, how much Jodie cares about making people happy. “Peacemaker,” Alma always calls her – the only one of her grandchildren who never seems to be part of any fights or conflict. But as she gets older they’ve been trying to bolster her self-confidence and ability to trust in her own choices without fear of disappointing people.

Tessa loops her arm around Jodie’s shoulder and gives her a tight squeeze through her puffy pink coat. “Jodie, Toph loves drawing things for you. He’ll love all the creative choices you make, no matter what. Do what makes _you _happy.”

"Lis said he wouldn’t like it if I gave one of the girls red hair, though. Is that true?”

Tessa presses her lips together to keep from chuckling and softly shakes her head. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind red hair either. You do whatever you want.”

She looks over to the seats a few rows away and catches her eldest signing rapidly to her best friend, the two of them conversing with their hands faster than Tessa can keep up, and she smiles. At fifteen Alisa has discovered a real love for drama, always on the hunt for any hint of tragic romance or illicit love story – even if there’s hardly any to be found in sleepy Ilderton. The stack of young adult romance novels on her shelf must be at least a meter high by now, and it doesn’t help that she’s egged on by her best friend, Nate, who seems to always know the latest gossip at Medway High School even though it’s only their first year there.

It is entertaining, though, even if sometimes the unwitting victim is her almost-fourteen year old brother and his budding interest in girls.

Tessa’s loved watching Alisa and Nate’s friendship grow over the years, despite their proclivity for intrigue and mischief, and it warms her heart to see how happy they both look. Alisa met Nate in Grade 3 and, upon learning that he was deaf, had immediately demanded they go to the library so that she could teach herself sign language and befriend him. The whole family had joined in on the lessons, to varying degrees of success (the kids picked it up quickly, she and Scott still rely on spelling words out fairly often), and although they’re both signing too fast for her to catch everything, from what Tessa can tell they’re discussing plans for Christmas.

She makes a mental note to buy an extra bag of ketchup chips for when he inevitably shows up on their doorstep Christmas Day.

The players take the ice and the buzzer goes off again, and Tessa follows the dark navy and bright yellow of Toph’s Ilderton Jets uniform as he chases the puck around the rink – keeping a sharp eye on any of the Sabres players that get too close. She’d never stand in the way of her son playing the game that he loves, but she won’t deny that every single time his blade hits the ice her gut fills up with anxiety.

There’s one Sabres player in particular that keeps challenging Toph every time he gets close to the net – the name _Kennedy _emblazoned in bold letters across their red jersey making them easy to track - and Tessa finds herself watching them as often as she does him. She’s not unfamiliar with this particular nemesis, neither are Toph’s sisters, grandparents or the rest of his extended family, and even Jodie looks up from coloring every once in a while to watch their heated clashes on the ice.

On the same team they’d be a dangerous combo and probably nigh on unbeatable, but opposite each other they’re lethal.

The Jets are up by one point halfway through the third and, although things are tense, they’re looking good. The kids are keeping a tight formation, skating cleanly, and hitting their marks, and if Scott were here he’d be bursting with pride over the way Toph so quickly gets the puck away from their opponents, but a foul fourteen minutes in gives the Sabres the advantage during a power play, and Tessa watches with dread as Kennedy makes a breakaway – tripping up a few Jets players as they skate towards the Jets’ net and chip the puck in over their goalie’s shoulder for a goal.

The arena erupts as Kennedy slides across the ice on one knee in celebration, and Tessa can feel the aggravation radiating off Toph from where she’s sitting – his jaw probably clenching in perfect imitation of his father as he undoubtedly starts thinking up ways to fix this in the remaining time left.

“Toph looks mad,” Jodie whispers, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, “Does this mean we’re driving to London for milkshakes after the game? It’s too cold for milkshakes, even if they’re the only thing that makes him happy after losing.”

“Maybe,” Tessa murmurs, mimicking her daughter by biting at the dry flecks on her lips and bemoaning the forgotten chapstick at the bottom of her other purse at home, “Toph might need something extra special to cheer him up, if we lose to the Sabres two days before Christmas.”

“Should I draw _him _a picture?” Jodie holds up her sketchbook and purple pencil, and Tessa smiles.

“I think he’d love that.”

There’s a scuffle in the middle of the rink and Toph and Kennedy careen across the ice into the boards, and Tessa winces at the sound of the glass rattling even though the two kids hardly notice the collision – both of them too concerned with going after the puck. One of the Sabres defensemen hits it away before either of them can reach it, and she briefly closes her eyes in gratitude that Toph doesn’t seem bothered by the crash.

Out of the corner of her eye, Tessa notices that Alisa and Nate have stopped signing and both of them are watching with rapt attention while Alisa fiddles with the strings of her homemade Jets hoodie. The one with Toph’s name and number carefully stitched onto the back that she always wears for good luck. She’d put Tessa’s old sewing machine to good use last year and made one for each member of the family to show their support, and Tessa’s infinitely grateful right now that if Toph looks up into the stands, he’ll know his family is here supporting him no matter what happens.

It’s times like this that she desperately wishes she had Scott’s hand to hold, his comforting voice reminding her that everything will be okay, that Toph’s wearing plenty of padding and kids who are barely teenagers are not likely going to do any real damage to him. The left side of her body feels cold and bereft without his familiar body heat there, the arena quieter without his shouting, and Tessa shivers as she watches the game – tucking her face further into the top of her thick yellow scarf and swallowing around the sudden lump in her throat.

The red clock on the wall is ticking down, each second bringing them closer and closer to a tie – objectively not a bad result, but not the one Toph was hoping for – when suddenly there’s a chance. One of the Sabres players trips up and loses control of the puck and, as if by some miracle, Toph is there – speeding down the ice in the opposite direction and heading straight towards the goalie.

Kennedy shoots off after him, skating as fast as possible to try and catch up, but there’s no hope. Toph lines up the shot and sends the puck soaring right between the goalie’s legs into the net just as the buzzer signals the end of the game.

The arena erupts into cheers and Tessa and Jodie jump to their feet, clapping and screaming Toph’s name and joining in enthusiastically when people start chanting _Moir, Moir, Moir! _

Toph is immediately dogpiled by his teammates, buried in a sea of navy and yellow, and as wonderful as it is to see, Tessa can’t help but feel a little bit sorry when Kennedy rips off her helmet, revealing a long thick red braid, and practically stomps away towards her team’s box in frustrated defeat. Hopefully the young girl knows that she played a really great game and is proud of the fact that she’s singlehandedly rocketed the Sabres to the top of the Bantam league in a single season. Scott’s even commented that she’s one of a kind before, and his eye for talent is unmatched in their community.

Tessa’s phone buzzes in her pocket as if summoned by that thought, and she pulls it out to find a text from her husband.

**Scott: **Have a quick break from work. How’d our boy do today?

**Tessa: **Scored at the buzzer, Jets won 4-3.

**Scott: **YES!

**Scott: **Sorry I missed it. Give him a big hug from me and tell him I’m so proud!

**Tessa: **Will do!

Scott sends back a grinning emoji and two thumbs up and Tessa pockets her phone with a small smile before gathering up her things and helping Jodie put away her colored pencils.

It’s wonderful that his business is doing well enough that they’ve opened up a skate shop in Vancouver, and Tessa doesn’t begrudge his need to be onsite for the prep work and opening – especially since the store just opened during the holiday rush and is in desperate need of as much help and oversight as they can get – but she misses him. Misses waking up next to him every morning, kisses shared over their morning coffee before the kids come clamoring downstairs, laughing when Alisa starts muttering under her breath at whatever book she’s reading or when Jodie performs one of her self-choreographed dances for them or Toph comes downstairs for a snack covered in streaks of paint.

It doesn’t feel quite like Christmas without Scott there to help decorate the tree and watch _A Muppet Christmas Carol _and make his signature caramel and M&M popcorn, and she misses him.

“Can we stop by Grandma’s house for wassail on the way home?” Jodie finishes zipping up her pencil bag before taking Tessa’s hand, her mittens practically swallowing her fingers and making it hard for Tessa to get a good grip, and she laughs when her glove starts to slip off and she has to fix it.

"If Toph and Lis want to and Grandma doesn’t mind,” Tessa replies, already knowing that her mother will be thrilled by the visit. Kate consistently complains that she doesn’t see the kids often enough now that they’re getting older, even though Tessa’s tried to explain that wrangling two teenagers and a pre-teen with different hobbies and busy schedules into all being in the same place at once is nothing short of a miracle these days.

“Mom, Nate’s coming home with us to watch the Grinch,” Alisa states as she shrugs on her thick maroon coat, “The really old one with Jim Carrey, not that awful new one with Ansel Elgort. And Grandma already promised Toph wassail _and _fudge after the game, so we have to stop there.”

“Okay, Lissa-Lou,” Tessa laughs, “I’m in as long as there’s fudge involved.”

“And we have to save some for Dad!” Jodie pipes up, happily swinging Tessa’s hand back and forth between them and grinning at the fresh snow that’s starting to fall, and Tessa nods even as she swallows thickly and blinks away the sudden tears that prick the back of her eyes.

“Of course, Jodie-bug. We’ll definitely save some for Dad.” 

****

The snow that started falling on Saturday hasn’t let up for more than a few minutes since then and Tessa sighs as she takes in the sight of white powder blanketing their backyard and coating the roads. Normally she loves having snow on Christmas Eve – the giant white flakes drifting slowly to the ground creating the perfect wintry atmosphere for the carols blasting from Alisa’s phone and somehow enhancing the smell of the gingerbread houses that all three children are currently messily decorating at the table – but having just had a phone call from Scott informing her that his flight from Vancouver was delayed for a third time due to weather, right now she loathes its very existence.

“We should have had Christmas in a desert this year,” She mutters, sipping her cocoa and glaring at the offending snow, and Lis snorts – her freckled nose scrunching up adorably.

“That wouldn’t be very cheery. What do they even use for Christmas trees in the desert – a cactus?”

“How do you decorate a cactus?” Toph perks up, licking green frosting off his thumb and reaching for the sprinkles. His gingerbread house is wildly different from his sisters’ and Tessa smiles to herself when she notices Jodie trying to copy the stained glass effect he’d somehow managed to create on the roof. “Do they even have anything to hang decorations off of?”

“They have needles,” Jodie offers, her tongue slightly sticking out of the corner of her mouth as she tries to create an icicle effect on her chimney, “We learned about the desert at school. My teacher says sometimes there are mirrors that make you think you see water when you really don’t.”

“Mirages, Jodie-bug, not mirrors,” Alisa gently corrects her, reaching out and steadying her little sister’s hand to help get the frosting where she wants it, “They happen when light refracts downwards.”

“What does refract mean?”

“Refraction,” Tessa explains, “Is the bending of light as it passes from one substance to another. Careful not to get any frosting on your pajamas, sweetheart.”

Jodie’s cheeks turn pink and she drops the bag of frosting to roll up her red sleeves as Toph and Alisa do the same. With any luck the pajamas will stay stain-free long enough for Scott to get home so they can take some family pictures. After all, he’s the one who picked them out this year – choosing the red and black plaid onesies specifically for the hoods with antlers attached. It would be a shame if one of the kids had to change before he could appreciate them properly.

_If he can even make it home for Christmas in this weather_, Tessa grumbles, shooting daggers at the snow that, if anything, only seems to be coming down harder.

“Can we have a snowball fight tomorrow?” Toph comes to stand beside Tessa to rinse his hands off in the sink, and she can’t resist reaching out and ruffling his dark wavy hair – turning his bedhead from that morning into an even fluffier mess than it already was.

“We’re going to Nana’s house tomorrow after we open presents. I’m sure you can persuade her and your uncles Danny and Charlie into having a snowball fight with you.” Tessa almost laughs at that. As if much persuasion has ever been needed to get the Moirs outside for a snowball fight. “Just be careful, you know how Nana gets.”

"She got Dad right in the face last year!” Jodie chimes in happily, popping a few candies into her mouth, “It was _so _funny. He looked like –“ She pulls a ridiculous face, her mouth dropping open and green eyes going wide in a comically shocked expression that looks so much like Scott it makes Tessa’s heart ache, and Toph and Lis burst out laughing.

"He did!” Alisa agrees, giggling wildly, “He didn’t see it coming at all!”

The kids break out in another round of giggles as they all take turns making increasingly ridiculous faces, demanding that Tessa join in, and soon the four of them are red in the face with laughter.

The doorbell rings and Toph hops away from the counter, cookie crumbs falling from his mouth as he messily wipes the back of his hand across it. “I’ll get it, Mom.”

“Thank you.”

“Who comes over on Christmas Eve?” Alisa’s brow furrows as she creates perfect little squares around the windows on her house. “Are we expecting anybody?”

“Maybe it’s Frosty the Snowman,” Jodie giggles, “Coming to take us all to the North Pole with him.”

“You’ll need your coat then, kiddo,” Lis jokes, dancing her fingers across Jodie’s ribcage and making her laugh, “Otherwise you’ll freeze!”

The nickname falling so easily from her daughter’s mouth, like it’s done thousands of times before, hits Tessa differently now. It’s been so long since she heard Scott say it that it’s almost unbearable, and she pushes away from the counter to follow after her son. “I better go see who it is.”

She heads down the hallway in the direction of the front door, hoping she won't have to suffer through carolers, but stops when she catches sight of Toph talking to an abundance of bright red hair barely contained underneath a white knitted hat.

"You brought me cookies?” Toph asks, the confusion in his voice evident, and the girl nods and kicks the toe of her boot against their welcome mat. “_Why_?”

“I make cookies every year with my mom during Hanukkah and she thought it would be nice if we brought you some. She said it was the least I could do after being so aggressive during the game on Saturday.”

_Ah, _Tessa recognizes her now. It’s strange seeing her without thick padding, a helmet, and a stick in her hand poised and ready to challenge Toph at a moment’s notice. Like this, Savannah Kennedy looks _normal _\- like a regular kid and the furthest thing from intimidating you could ever imagine.

“_You _bake?” Toph openly scoffs, holding the plate in his hands out in front of him like he’s afraid the cookies might be laced with something, and Savannah looks affronted.

“Yes!” She grumbles, folding her arms over her chest. “I can do more than just play hockey, you know.”

That seems to bring Toph up short, and all he can say is, “Oh.”

“What, you thought that’s all I ever did?”

“No, I just…” He slowly draws the cookies in closer, picking one up to examine the frosting work. “I hadn’t really thought about it. You’re so good I assumed you must be practicing a lot.”

“Oh.” She blushes. “Yeah, I do practice quite a bit, but I like other stuff. Um… you’re not so bad yourself, you know, at hockey.”

“Thanks.” Toph stares at her and she stares back, both of them waiting for the other to speak, and Tessa almost intervenes to spare her son anymore awkwardness when Savannah quietly coughs.

“So… I guess I’ll go now.”

“Wait!” As if pushed into action, Toph sets the plate of cookies down on the table by the door and holds both of his hands up to keep her there. “Wait here.”

He spins around and runs upstairs and Tessa can hear the tell-tale noises of him rifling through his closet before he comes crashing back downstairs – skipping the steps two at a time even though she and Scott have scolded him over and over about how dangerous it is.

“Here.” He shoves one of his canvases into Savannah’s hands and she stares at it like she’s never seen a painting before. “Happy Hanukkah.”

Savannah runs her fingers carefully over the pink and yellow sunrise over the lake, captured perfectly when they’d been staying at the cabin on Lake Huron earlier that fall, and Tessa sucks in a deep breath. She knows that’s one of Toph’s favorite paintings. He’d been so proud of it when he’d finished - showing it to anyone who expressed even a modicum of interest. To see him giving it away...

"What’s this?”

“I painted it.” He shrugs, trying to act casual by running one of his hands through his hair, but utterly failing when his voice cracks halfway through.

“_You _paint?” Savannah’s grey eyes go as round as saucers, clearly impressed, and Toph makes a funny sort of choked sound that has Tessa pressing her lips together to keep herself from laughing.

“Yes, I can do more than just play hockey, you know.” He jokes, using her own words against her, and Savannah lets out a small, disbelieving giggle.

“Oh. Well, thank you. It’s really good.”

“Thanks.”

“Um… I guess I’ll go. My mom’s waiting in the car. Merry Christmas, Moir.”

"Thanks, um… thanks again, for the cookies.”

“You’re welcome.” She shuffles from foot to foot, then squares her shoulders and smirks at him. “But don’t think this means I’ll go any easier on you.”

“Yeah,” Toph laughs, and there’s no real malice in his voice anymore, “Me either. We’re still going to keep beating you.”

“You wish!”

“Yeah, right. See ya on the ice!”

“See you there.”

Savannah walks back towards the street where her mom’s minivan is parked and Toph does little half-wave, even though she can’t see him, before shutting the door.

He’ll probably be embarrassed to know she saw all that, but Tessa goes over to him and pulls him into a hug anyway, giving him an extra strong squeeze. “That was very nice of you, Toph.”

“Well,” He shrugs awkwardly, cheeks turning pink as he ducks out of her hug and picks up the plate of cookies, “She brought me cookies, so… it only seemed fair.”

“Maybe Savannah’s not so evil after all?” She gently prods, smiling at him and wondering if maybe all of Alisa’s teasing hasn’t actually been that far off the truth, but Toph tilts his head and groans with all the energy of an exasperated teenage boy.

“_Mom_,” He whines, “Don’t call her that. Kennedy’s still my number one hockey enemy. Don’t make it weird.”

“Sorry.” Tessa holds her hands up in surrender, biting back her laughter. “I won’t say another word.”

“Thank you.” 

Three hours later and there’s still no news from Scott, although the snow seems to have tapered off for the time-being, hopefully giving his plane a chance to land safely, and Tessa sets her phone down on the coffee table with a heavy sigh. Not even _White Christmas _is able to cheer her up right now, although her kids singing along to the music does lift her spirits somewhat.

It’s just… she can’t help but feel frustrated. For the last fifteen years they’d had an agreement about how much work-related travel was allowed. No more than two-weeks at a time, and they had to be home more often than they were gone. It’s a system that had worked beautifully for fifteen years, and neither of them had ever felt neglected or like they weren’t present enough for the kids. But then he and Paul had decided to open up a fourth skate shop and settled on Vancouver as the location, thanks to the popularity of winter sports out there, and it had been nothing but one problem after the other – each one apparently needing Scott’s personal attention.

Not that she blames him. She understands that it’s his business and she wants him to succeed and really, she’s very proud of him for building something worth expanding across the country, but… it’s Christmas Eve and he isn’t home and she just really, really misses him.

Bing Crosby starts to sing _White Christmas_, the four main characters decked out in all their red and white splendor as they walk across the stage in front of a gigantic Christmas tree, and suddenly the front door bursts open - crashing into the wall with a bang that has all four of them jumping up from the couch in a panic and has Tessa reaching for the nearest conceivable weapon, followed by a booming voice calling out, “Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas!”

They all take off running towards the entryway, slipping and sliding across the hardwood floor in their socks, and there in the doorway – framed by beautifully falling fat flakes of snow and a twilight backdrop complete with a few flickering stars – is Santa Claus with his thick white beard and red suit and heavy black boots.

And light brown eyes with a twinkle that Tessa would recognize anywhere.

She drops the TV remote she’d been holding aloft and sprints towards him - throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him within an inch of his life. He stumbles backwards under her unexpected onslaught, nearly falling before managing to catch himself and reciprocate, hugging her almost as tightly as she is him. 

It’s different, the white cotton beard rubbing against her chin, the red velvet coat smooth underneath her hands as she attempts to fist it and hold on tighter, the faint smell of mothballs masked by pine and cinnamon – as if the costume store had haphazardly tried to mitigate the damage done by keeping the suit in storage eleven months out of the year – but she doesn’t care. His lips are still the same, the arms holding her are _his _arms, and Tessa’s suddenly happier than she’s been in months. So happy she feels like she might burst if she doesn’t keep kissing him.

“Mom’s kissing Santa!” Jodie gasps, sounding both confused and horrified, and Alisa and Toph start laughing hysterically.

“That’s not Santa,” Alisa giggles, coming up to throw her arms around both of them the second they break for air and she has a chance to shove her way in the middle, “It’s Dad!”

“I’m not Dad,” Scott jokes, keeping one arm around Tessa’s waist while reaching out with the other to gather all three kids into a big group hug, “I _am _Santa. Here to make all of your Christmas dreams come true.”

“We recognize you, Dad,” Toph grins, rolling his eyes and giving Scott a big hug, and Jodie squirms and wriggles her way between everyone to wrap her arms around Scott’s middle – practically getting herself squashed in the process.

“Hi Santa-Dad!” Jodie giggles, her words somewhat muffled by the white cotton lining the hem of Scott’s red coat, and they all laugh. “Welcome home!”

“Hi Jodie-bug.” He bends down to scoop her up in his arms, lifting her easily and propping her up on his hip like she’s still a toddler and not ten years old. “Have you been a good girl for Mama while I was working in the North Pole?”

“Mmhmm.” She nods, throwing her arms around Scott’s neck and nearly knocking his hat off, getting his beard all twisted sideways. “But I missed you.”

“We _all _missed you,” Tessa gently corrects, and Scott leans in to kiss her again. It has to be quick, given the gaggle of children currently swarming him and demanding his attention, but it’s enough to send tingles up and down her spine.

“Not as much as I missed all of you.” His eyes are soft and the look he gives her sends butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Sometimes, on days like today, Tessa isn’t the woman who’s been married to him for almost thirty years, she’s the girl who just kissed him for the first time underneath the mistletoe. Giddy and flustered and overjoyed.

"_Where _did you get this?” She asks, tugging playfully at the collar, and Scott smirks.

“Picked it up in London. My flight wasn’t really delayed again, I told a little white-lie so that you wouldn’t be suspicious when I got home a little later than planned. The store was on the south side so it took forever to get there from the airport and then up here, thanks to the storm. Are you mad?”

“No,” She half-laughs, half-sighs, and moves behind him to close the door and keep the cold out, “I’m too happy to have you home to be upset with you.”

“Good. Then you’ll be even happier when I tell you my news.” He grins and heads back towards the living room, taking the kids with him, and Tessa quickly follows after them – curiosity piqued.

“What’s that?”

Scott sets Jodie down on the couch and gestures for everyone else to sit as well, waiting until they’re all comfortable before throwing his arms out to the side and grinning. “I’m all done in Vancouver! Our manager there has the run of the place now and I know she’ll do a good job. I’m home for good.”

"No more Vancouver?” Lis asks, already fidgeting with excitement and the barely contained urge to hop out of her seat and hug him again, and Scott nods and holds out his arms – laughing when she practically jumps into them.

"No more Vancouver, Lissa-Lou. You’re stuck with old dad at home again.”

After almost a year of commuting back and forth, spending barely more than five days out of each month at home, this is the best news Tessa could have received and as the kids start shouting and hugging him again, she has to turn away to hide her emotional reaction and the tears that have started softly falling down her cheeks.

“Alright, kiddos, why don’t you all go set the table for dinner and give me and Mrs. Claus a chance to talk.”

The kids start giggling again and scamper off to do as they’re told, and Tessa feels Scott’s strong arms wrap around her as he draws her in for a hug from behind – propping his bearded chin up on her shoulder. “You okay, Tess?”

“More than okay.” She twists around and loops her arms around his neck, burying her hands in his hair and not caring that it knocks his hat askew.

“Would you say,” He pauses, pressing a peck on her lips before pulling back with a cheesy smile, “That I’ve brought joy to the world?”

“Scott,” She grumbles, but doesn’t even pretend to hide her smile. She might have missed his sense of humor more than anything, as cheesy as it can be sometimes. Nobody has ever made her laugh as much as he does.

“Come on, I did say I’ll be home for Christmas. I knew you’d have a blue Christmas without me, so I took a sleigh ride to get here over the river and through the woods. People tried to stop me, but I just said, ‘God rest ye merry –‘”

She cuts him off with a solid kiss, pressing her lips against his forcefully and laughing when he has to swallow the rest of his pun – the words dying in his throat. Not that he seems to be complaining, given his enthusiastic response, and Tessa soon finds her own head spinning as he peppers kisses along her jaw and down the side of her neck.

“I’ve missed you so much, T. Not just the past few weeks, but the past few months. It’s been awful and I’m so sorry I was gone so much. I promise if we ever open a new shop again –“

“Don’t,” Tessa groans, cutting him off by placing her index finger over his mouth, “Don’t even mention that right now. Just keep kissing me.”

And he does...

...for half a second until Toph saunters back into the room and announces that he’s starving and the girls have already started sneaking glazed carrots out of the pan – bringing them back to the real world of parental responsibilities.

“Later?” Scott asks, chuckling even as he reluctantly lets her go, and Tessa grins.

“Definitely.”

They eat dinner and way too much dessert and end up watching another Christmas movie piled under a heap of blankets on the floor in front of the TV before Tessa forces the kids to go upstairs and get in bed so that she and Scott can finish putting out the rest of the presents. Although none of the kids believe in Santa anymore, it’s still fun to put out a few gifts overnight so that they have a surprise waiting for them in the morning - plus a few extra for Toph for his birthday - and she makes her way back downstairs after kissing them all goodnight with real excitement in her veins.

Only to find Scott, now sans hat and beard and looking deliciously more like himself, busy hanging mistletoe on every conceivable doorway and ceiling fixture.

“What on earth are you doing?” She laughs, looking up at the five twigs above her – each one attached to a different blade of the ceiling fan.

“I figure I’ve been gone two-hundred and thirty-four days this year, if we assume an average of ten kisses a day – obviously sometimes, hopefully, a lot more than that, but I’m being conservative in my estimates here – that means I owe you two-thousand three-hundred and forty kisses. That’s a lot to catch up on.”

"And what-“ Tessa asks, trying and failing not to feel breathless both from his words and the heated look he gives her, “- You thought the mistletoe would help you make it up to me?”

“Well,” He shrugs, dropping the green and white clump he’d been holding and walking towards her, “The way I see it, mistletoe was responsible for our first kiss, so it can’t hurt to have a bunch hanging around the house to remind you all the good that can come from it.”

“I don’t need mistletoe to remind me of all the good that can come from kissing you, Scott.” She smiles and leans up to prove her point, lingering with her lips against his and just breathing him in for a minute. “I have thousands of reminders every day. And I do believe we agreed a long time ago that being married meant you could kiss me anytime you want. You don't need extra foliage.”

The corner of Scott’s mouth quirks up, and his hands slide low on her hips to rest just above her ass and pull her in close. “We did, didn’t we?”

He bends down to kiss her, but Tessa pushes on his shoulders and shakes her head. “But not dressed like this. It’s too weird now.”

“Why?” He laughs, following her gaze to look down at the Santa suit he’s still wearing. “Is the suit not doing it for you? No latent Santa fetish we can play with here? You don't want me to ask you if you've been naughty or nice?”

“No!” Tessa bursts into giggles, ignoring the flash of heat between her legs at the way his voice drops when he says _naughty, _already moving to unbutton the red jacket and shove it off him, letting it fall into a heap on the floor. “No _Santa Baby _urges, sorry.”

“Damn. Because I was thinking you’d look really hot in that red and white lingerie they sell at the stores during Christmastime.”

“That is an entirely different fantasy, one that we can revisit another time, but right now I’d like to make-out with my husband, not Kris Kringle.”

"Your husband would prefer that, too.” He chuckles and kicks off the red pants, leaving him in a plain black t-shirt and jeans, one of Tessa’s favorite looks, and she sighs happily and guides him to the couch before straddling his lap.

“There he is." She smiles, brushing a few strands of hair away from his forehead. "That’s the man I love.”

“And don’t you forget it," He teases, winking before cupping her face with both hands and kissing her softly, his expression infinitely tender, "Merry Christmas, Mrs. Moir."

"Merry Christmas, Mr. Moir." 

**Author's Note:**

> There we go - just something simple and sweet for the holidays. Wishing you all the best this season! 
> 
> XOXO,  
Daisy


End file.
